Valence (Confluence Book 4)

by Jennifer Foehner Wells

  Ajaya looked at his eye for half a second and declared he was fine. It didn’t seem fine to him. His eye was watering like a bastard and he couldn’t stop blinking.

  He leaned against the nearest wall, as far away from the kids as he could get, and tried to be patient. He was too tired for this shit.

  On Pliga, waiting for things to happen was the bane of his existence. Everybody just seemed to amble around, getting things done when they felt like it. It was just too damn happy-go-lucky when there were giant-ass bugs roaming around the galaxy eating everything and everyone in sight. He knew Jane was constantly pushing to keep work on the ships moving forward, but it didn’t seem to make much of a difference. Alan was eager to see the manufacturing sector to get an idea for himself of how close the final hull sheets were to being ready to put in place. Their biggest problem wasn’t how to get the stuff done, but how fast, and when they would work. He never knew when that would be. These people had absolutely no concept of time.

  Eventually the kiddos seemed to get bored with the crew, and Kula and the Gang moved on. Thank God.

  Gili resumed his tour, finally. They walked past a newborn nursery. If the first kids they’d seen were micro, these tykes were nanoscale—barely larger than a human hand. There weren’t many places with doors in the pligan buildings, but this room had one and Alan could see why. The munchkins were bouncing all over the place, including off the walls. As Alan and the others got closer, a few of the babies hopped onto the transparent divider, clinging with the suckers on their fingers and toes, to stare at them as they passed by. They looked so much like frogs that it actually made him feel a little weird to see those tiny, intelligent eyes looking back at him. Talk about cognitive dissonance.

  Soon after, they entered the manufacturing sector, and the way the trees looked changed dramatically. Gili stopped in a big, open room where the limbs that were enclosed by the buildings terminated in huge basins of various sizes and shapes, grown from the wood itself, or at least that’s what it looked like. The outsides of these basins flowed uninterrupted from the limbs and were covered with the same kind of gray bark.

  There were huge, swollen knots in the branches between the trunks and the basins. When Alan got closer he could see that on one side these knots were actually large, amorphously shaped panels, devoid of bark, with a frosted polymer coating through which he could sort of make out wood. His first thought was that it had to be a touch screen, but that seemed absurd. Could the pligans have created a biologically based interface with the Tree?

  The basins contained liquid-looking substances in various drab colors from off-white to gray-brown. Looking around through the plexiglass walls, he could see that these kinds of rooms went on as far as the eye could see. It seemed to be an organic factory.

  Alan wandered over to one of the basins to examine it more closely. He wondered if Gili would let him take some samples.

  “Here Existence is creating polymers,” Gili said. Then he rushed over to Alan. “Carefully! We are not touching—chemical reactions are sometimes heating.”

  Alan gritted his teeth tightly, flexing his jaw. He hadn’t been about to touch it. He was just looking. And he wished someone had been so concerned about his safety when a miniature pligan had been sticking a suction cup in his eye.

  He walked away from Gili without replying. The room was warm, though the air smelled clean enough. Alan couldn’t detect any fumes coming off the polymer basins.

  Gili pointed to the organic panel emerging from the branch they were nearest to. There was a platform under this branch to allow a pligan to reach it. Gili hopped onto the platform. “Here is for giving genetic instructions to Existence. For bringing needed raw ingredients up from the ground and the rules for combining them.” Gili touched the panel, his fingertip sinking into the material, and it polarized, revealing that it was a display resembling the e-ink in an electronic reading device. The surface was covered in symbols. Gili didn’t touch it again, sadly, and the place where he had pressed re-formed instantly to appear flat again.

  Alan gaped. “How does that work?”

  Gili looked at the terminal like it was unremarkable. “Meristematic tissue in the vascular cambium is being modified.”

  Alan huffed and remarked, “Well, they do use technology. I could be wrong but I think we’re looking at a rudimentary biological computer.”

  Ron nodded. “These are the first of these panels that I’ve seen. I wonder why they keep them so hidden. They only use them for manufacturing.”

  Gili’s throat swelled slightly. “The optimal life. Using technology only when needing. It is for enhancing a life, not driving a life.”

  “What an interesting way of living,” Ajaya said.

  Pledor frowned. “It seems a bit backwards to me. Technology makes life easier.”

  Ajaya looked thoughtful. “For some, perhaps. Here that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

  Gili’s throat swelled again. “Yes. Ajaya is understanding. We are needing little. Optimal Existence is requiring little.”

  Jaross wandered over to a place where the branches spread out into a narrow lattice supporting something that looked a lot like the leaf that had nearly flattened him and Ajaya outside earlier, except it was much thicker. “It probably explains why they’re just a curiosity to the USR and left alone, for the most part.”

  Ryliuk said, “Yes, but you are still at risk from the Swarm here. Does the USR extend any protection to you?”

  Gili shuffled closer to Jaross. The rest of the group followed, except Alan. He kept an eye on them but stayed near the panel. It had already reversed polarity and gone blank. He glanced around to see if anyone was looking at him, saw that they weren’t, then placed his finger experimentally on the touch screen. Nothing happened. He pressed a little harder. His finger sank into the polymer and he could feel something underneath, sort of gritty, maybe bumpy. Again, nothing changed on the screen. When he removed his digit, it re-formed and looked untouched. What was under there? How were signals getting to the Tree? How did it interpret the input data?

  Gili said, “No, not risking anything. We are not needing protecting.”

  Tinor said, “But how is that possible? This seems like exactly the kind of world the Swarm would want to feed on. Landmasses full of life. An ocean full of sea creatures. They would see this world as food, just as they would see any other USR world, wouldn’t they?”

  Alan shuddered internally. The thought of any person being food was disturbing, even if they looked like frogs. He’d never eaten frog. And now he never would. The idea made him want to barf.

  Gili faced Tinor and pulled back his lips in that bizarre facsimile of a smile he’d been practicing with Jane earlier. “Ah, but they cannot be ‘seeing’ us at all.”

  Alan frowned.

  “They cannot see you? Why?” Jane asked.

  Gili turned to the nearest trunk and gestured grandly. “Existence would be making it impossible.”

  Alan didn’t even try not to look skeptical. These people seemed to think their damn trees were magic. Sure, they were doing some cool things, but come on. He couldn’t stop himself from saying, “That sounds like wishful thinking.”

  Gili ignored Alan and swiveled to point to the enormous leaf that Jaross was standing next to. “This is what Existence is making for protecting you—your Speroancora. Many things being possible.” He shuffled back toward the skywalk. Was he leaving already? They’d barely gotten to look at any of this stuff. Alan wasn’t ready to move on yet.

  Alan went over to examine this leaf more closely. Up close it did still look a lot like a leaf, but he’d seen the finished product before it was applied to the outer hull, and at that stage all the parts of the leaf—the veins, and the skin or whatever a botanist would call those parts of it—had either been removed or dissolved or put through some other process. It had been smooth as glass. Huh. He crouched down so he could look up from underneath it. That surface looked even more leafy than the top
.

  Jane called out, “Gili, please wait. Could you explain more? We could see your planet when we came here. Why wouldn’t the Swarm be able to see it?”

  Gili jutted his head forward, and his eyelids closed partway. Alan had seen Kula make that expression with the children earlier. It had to be a patronizing gesture—like an adult explaining something obvious to a child. Alan narrowed his eyes. What was going on here?

  “We were not Hiding. We only express Hiding when the Swarm comes near. Also—we have Escaping, if needed.” He took off walking again, already to the skywalk. He was just walking away like he expected them to follow. Then he called over his shoulder, “I will show you Escaping next. It has Hiding too. I will be showing you. Coming?”

  Gili didn’t wait to hear anyone answer. He shuffled on down the corridor.

  Alan leaned over the plate in the making, getting as close as he could without touching it. “This is some amazing shit, man. What else have these guys got up their sleeves? What do you think he means by this Hiding and Escaping business?”

  Schlewan joined him in peering at the leaflike structure. “Fascinating, fascinating, fascinating.”

  Alan grimaced and thumbed toward Schlewan. “She’s starting to sound like him.”

  Jane started after Gili.

  Alan scowled. “Wait a minute. Can’t you ask him to explain this technology to us more, or to get someone who could give us more technical details?”

  Ajaya said, “Yes, I’d love to learn more about how they manipulate the genes of the tree to create these structures.”

  Jane sighed. “He’s getting sleepy. You know how he is. It sounds like he has something big to show us. Let’s go see what it is before he takes another long nap. We can ask him to bring us back here later.”

  Alan spread out his hands. “What’s the big hurry? We’re here now. We don’t know how far away this other thing is. Why not just stay put? Let him have his nap while we look around here?”

  Jane waved them forward impatiently. “I know. I know. Another time. I have a hunch we’re going to want to see this. We shouldn’t miss this opportunity.”

  “But this is an opportunity—” Alan said incredulously.

  Jane glanced back again at Gili, who was getting pretty far down the skywalk already. He seemed smaller, hunched, like he was readying himself to fold up into his sleeping form. She was right. A nap was impending. Even he could see that.

  “Just humor me,” Jane said. She turned around and jogged to catch up with Gili.

  The rest of them followed reluctantly.

  Jane touched Gili lightly when she caught up with him. “You were going to show us Escaping?”

  He roused himself like he was already half asleep, smacking his gums together. “Escaping. Oh, yes. Walking to the carts, going to the lowest level.”

  The carts turned out to be up a gently sloping rise. They hadn’t been to this part of the city before. It was a long walk and Gili was truly drooping by the time they got there.

  Their destination was actually a sort of tram station, though Alan couldn’t see any operators around. It was deserted aside from their group.

  Gili stepped inside an empty car that was about the size of a train car and immediately folded himself up and went to sleep.

  Alan sighed. “Great.”

  6

  October 12, 2017

  ZARA’S FINGERS shook as she moved the optical mouse around. She was having a hard time focusing on the screen. It seemed a little blurry. Behind her, her parents kept talking in the kitchen like everything was normal.

  It wasn’t. She’d just committed a crime. She could go to jail for this. No—not jail, juvie. Her parents would be so disappointed. Her life could be ruined.

  She should destroy the thumb drive. Take it down to the alley and smash it with a hammer and throw the remains in five different dumpsters. What if someone checked Daddy’s laptop every day? What if it was monitored remotely for illegal access? Would he come in here any moment to start yelling at her?

  She clicked on her school e-mail automatically, because what else was she going to do? She couldn’t just sit there and stare at the home screen.

  There was a note from a teacher, a reminder about the impending deadline of the social studies group project on different kinds of political systems around the world. She’d already finished hers. Another message was about a spirit rally on Friday for the basketball game. There was one from Becky. She clicked on it absently.

  “U do it yet?” was all it said.

  “NO!” she typed forcefully, and clicked Send.

  She was mad—that people were bugging her about this, that she’d felt pressure to do it—that she’d actually done it. Just because you could do something didn’t mean you should. She didn’t want anyone to get in trouble, least of all her.

  Sweat beaded in her hairline. She looked longingly at the stairs to the second floor. She wanted to hunker down in her room to await her inevitable punishment. But she had to act like everything was okay. At least until it wasn’t.

  She might get away with it. She clung to that hope even as sick feelings swirled around inside her like a debilitating disease. It was more than nausea. There were strange sensations running through her arms and legs. She alternately felt hot, then cold. Her muscles twitched at the slightest sound.

  She didn’t know what to do with herself. She didn’t want to play a game, but that’s what they expected her to do. She settled for something easy, let herself be at least partially distracted by the cheery, 8-bit-inspired music and the flashing colors. She was passing time. That was it.

  She was very conscious of her mother settling on the sofa with a book behind her—though she never turned to look—and of her dad whipping the easy chair into the reclined position and opening his laptop.

  There was no accusation. No utterance of surprise. She’d gotten away with it. So far.

  An hour crawled by.

  Her dinner was just sitting inside there, churning around, not digesting.

  She turned off the computer and drooped under feigned tiredness, hoping she wasn’t overacting because Mama would see through that in a heartbeat. Normally she’d try to eke out more time before bed, but not tonight. She’d had enough.

  She walked over to her mom, keeping her eyelids heavy and low. “Gonna go brush and put on PJs. Maybe read a little before bed.”

  Her mom furrowed her brow as she glanced up. “You feeling okay?”

  “Just tired. Goodnight, Mama.” She leaned over to lightly hug her mom and brush a kiss against her cheek.

  “Goodnight, sweetie.”

  She went to her dad and repeated the ritual, then made herself walk slowly down the hallway, pausing in the family room to swipe the old laptop from under the sofa and grab her backpack. Upstairs, she propped the laptop behind her headboard and plugged it in, then quickly changed into pajamas. She couldn’t dillydally. Her mother was listening for tooth-brushing sounds. She scrubbed her teeth in the hall bathroom and washed her face, rubbing at a tingly spot on her chin that was probably going to turn into a pimple. She normally would have put some pimple cream on it, but it just didn’t seem to matter right now. Then she went to her room and closed the door, flopped on the bed spread-eagled, and waited.

  After a long time just staring at the ceiling, she leaned over the side of the bed to pick up her jeans and fish out the thumb drive. She stared at it in indecision.

  Some of the fear and desperation had worn off. She’d gotten away with it so far. Part of her still wanted to destroy it. But another part of her wanted to look at it. Really bad. She put it back in her backpack, determined to grab a hammer in the morning and obliterate it before she went to her bus stop. That was what she would do. Destroy the evidence. Keep hoping no one got in trouble.

  She tried to distract herself by reading a book, but she read the same passage over and over again and it never once sank in. Her thoughts kept leaping to the contents of the thumb drive, which
were probably exciting, then back to her inevitable punishment—either by her parents or potentially even the government. A spurt of unease washed over her every time she thought about that. She heard the faint sounds of her mother getting ready for work and then leaving.

  She got up to pee and snuck downstairs to find her dad snoring in the easy chair. She turned off the lights and covered him with a blanket. Then she went back to her own bed. She tried to sleep, but ended up just lying there with her heart pounding so hard she could hear weird thumping sounds in her pillow.

  The red numbers of her bedside clock said she passed two painfully long hours this way. She was wide-awake. Sleep would not be coming anytime soon. She leaned over and squinted as she turned on the light next to her bed.

  She sat up, twitching with indecision.

  The damage had already been done. Whether she looked at the download or didn’t, the crime had been committed. She bit her lip. She couldn’t undo that—and might as well satisfy her curiosity, especially if she was going to be punished either way.

  She dragged it all out. The laptop, still charging. The thumb drive. With a sigh she opened the laptop and stuck the drive into a USB port. The files downloaded instantly. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

  She scrolled through the list of files, staring hard at the alien symbols. At first she thought she’d just open the file at the top of the list, but she decided to look at all of the alien words first. They were beautiful and intricate, nothing at all like English letters or anything else she’d ever seen.

  One of the file names stood out to her. She didn’t know what it was…it just seemed like the combination of shapes in the characters was particularly appealing. She clicked on that one.

  Immediately a new full-screen window opened. She expected to see symbols floating all over the display like they had on her dad’s computer. Instead a pale, drab, green symbol filled the black space. It was circular with curving lines slicing it into smaller segments of varying proportions. Different elements of the symbol glowed more brightly and then receded. It cycled over and over again.